Rose
by Elizabeth Bennent
Summary: Mary Magdalene. Apostle of the Apostles. Christ's wife. Mother of his child. His most trusted companion. A woman of strength. Her life, full of grief, but out of her grief...beauty.
1. Chapter 1

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

Three days after her His death, Mary lay in bed asleep, but gruesome nightmares still seemed to sweat out of her pours. The most recent dream troubled Mary's sleep that third morning; terrifying and vivid.

It depicted the afternoon of her Husband's death. He was hanging on the ragged wooden posts crossing one over the other. His hands and feet were glistening-red and dripping with his sweet Blood. He hung in a peaceful state, like that of a person before their sleep.

The gravel Mary kneeled on bore into the skin covering her knees. She looked down to see a hand next to her leg. It was a rough, calloused hand from years as a fisherman and living a rustic life. It was Peter. He looked up to the dying Rabbi with a triumphant smile spread across his face.

"Peter?" Mary asked shakily.

He slowly turned his face to her. His hair was graying; his skin sagged, folding over his once-worshipful eyes. He aged many years in the short moment he turned to look at her. He still had the smile playing across his rough lips. His eyes frightened her. Only the whites of his eyes showed as they rolled around in his head. Mary wanted to run, but she couldn't leave Jesus alone. She couldn't move.

In a demonic voice, he said, "I have denied Him." The voice was so familiar. It had haunted Mary years before. Terror took over her heart. The sky darkened. Somewhere in the distance she heard locusts. Or was it cruel laughter? They sounded they same.

He laughed and blood started to spurt out of Mary's own palms and feet. "I take charge now..." he said.

"NO! He's a follower!" Mary shrieked, waking up. She rose up quickly from her sleep. Cold sweat dripped off her face. She checked her hands and feet to make sure they were still whole and did not drip with blood.

Breathing heavily, she placed her hands around her large abdomen. She looked down at it and hugged it closer. The baby would never know their father. Mary and her child could be subjected anything now that he was gone. More horrifyings arrests, lashings, crucifixions, and other twisted executions. Mary could take it. She had borne many terrors. But the child…

Mary slowly rose to her feet. She changed out of the shift she had worn for three days now. It was grimy. Blood and dirt stained the hem and cuffs. She placed it in the basket and pulled on a new one, and examined her choices for a clean robe. Black would be appropriate. But a flash of bright blue caught her eye from the folded clothes she had brought with her. Jesus had loved that robe. It belonged to His mother before she gave it to her daughter-in-law. It smelled like his mother, He had said.

"Scents trigger blessed memories that are given by God," Jesus had said, "They are treasured keys to help you be closer to Him as well as your loved ones."

Mary pulled it on. It was a comfort. It was more comforting than the black robe. So it stayed draped around her body.

The small room Jesus and his followers had been staying in while they were in Jerusalem was cold. The fire had gone out. Mary had to re-build it slowly, due to her gravid womb. After the fire was going, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was streaked with dirt, her eyes were still red and hollow looking from the tears shed, her long, dark hair was tangled and knotty. She refused to do anything about it, however. She had gone like that for three days. Looking presentable wouldn't change anything.

Jesus' mother, also named Mary, appeared in the doorway with a basket of newly bought food. She had tidied up and her shoulders were squared into a strong position that gave Mary a sweeping feeling of comfort.

"My daughter..."she said upon entering and walking to Mary to stroke her cheek, "You are awake. Try and get more sleep. You hardly slept at all last night."

"I fear sleep now. Satan tortures it," Mary said quietly, "Just as it did years ago."

"We all fear the Evil One, child. Have faith...you are safe from it. My Son cured you," said the Mother. 

"Satan…it possess Peter in my dreams," she said.

"Satan wouldn't lay a hand on Peter, daughter. He is a follower," she said.

"He wouldn't while your Son was alive; but Jesus is dead now...I have no more protection Mother!" Mary said, "And you know very well that Peter would like to lead the disciples. He might do anything to take the coveted position."

"Mary, that's nonsense. Peter knows how Jesus loves you. He wouldn't hurt you. And do not forget...our Teacher isn't really gone, child," she sighed, "I know it is hard to believe this all happened. It's all part of His plan, you know that, right?" said the older woman.

You're being selfish, Mary told herself. "I do," Mary said. She then examined the elder woman. Mother was tired, worn, and yet still strong and pure in her movements and voice. Mary noticed that there was now a kind of mark left upon this woman by Jesus. It wasn't seen, but felt.

Mother sighed. "I bought fish, apples, and wheat for bread."

"Mother...let me pay you for the food. I have plenty of money. Save yours," Mary said, reaching for her purse filled with the wealth she had carried for a long time.

"No, you save that for when the baby comes," she said, setting the basket of food next to the small fire, "You can eat and then visit the...the tomb."

"Yes my Mother," said Mary.

Mary helped her Mother-in-law prepare the morning meal of boiled wheat grains and apples. Mother seasoned the fish. When at last the meal was ready Mary sat down on the mat, but did not eat any of her food.

"Mary, please eat," said the Mother.

"Yes my Mother..."

She picked up a slice of an apple as the Mother began to eat her own food.

Mary, have an apple...

The smell triggered her memories…


	2. Chapter 2

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

Mary had been born and raised in the fishing town of Magdala, on the edge of Lake Galilee. Her father, Carpus was a known and wealthy merchant. He married into the wealthy family of his wife, Hephzibah. Their children were respected and the pride of the town. Mary's older brothers, Adino, Allon, Asaph and Felix all were part of her father's fishing and trade business. Her older sisters, Avigayil, Ariel, and Atarah all were married well; their husbands were also part of the business.

Mary, the youngest, was loved by them all. Especially the mother of her father, Drusilla, who lived with them after Mary's grandfather, had died.

Mary was spoiled with fine things, within the limit of the Jewish religious ways. She learned to read and write scripture verses and eventually began to help record profits at the warehouse occasionally.

Magdala was always busy, open, and fresh. Mary didn't want to live anywhere else. She loved the lake and the people. She loved the wharf where she loved to walk and talk with the fishermen.

By the time she was fifteen, and ready to marry, she was sophisticated and cool when she talked with her male friends. The fishermen adored her and would have asked for her hand if she weren't above them.

However, men that were of her station paid her no heed. She was too outspoken and associated with the fishermen and their families. Mary's family became worried when she turned sixteen and was still not married. However, her parents loved Mary and her way with people. She was partly why the family was so well respected. This went on until Mary was twenty.

As long as Mary had lived, the Romans occupied the town and were looked negatively at by the Jews. Furthermore, the Romans had a secret alliance with the outcast robbers and pirates of Galilee; people who hated the wealthy families living around the lake. Carpus' family especially.

Carpus had managed to not have any sort of confrontation with the robbers and Romans who protected them. Yet around the time Mary was twenty, they became restless. They wanted Carpus, along with other merchants, and his business to go down, while stealing his profits.

After weeks of small fights among the pirates and fishermen, the waters surrounding Magdala were red with blood. The fighting had grown so violent the Romans were forced to intervene which meant trouble for the fishing district.

Carpus and the other merchants had to do something. They had to sacrifice something. The pirates wanted Mary, and other unmarried, yet wealthy women. Some refused, some caved. Carpus refused.

Mary remembered going to sleep after prayers one night. She was tired and looked forward to sleeping well. Her brother Allon was outside her door, guarding. She was safe and fell peacefully into sleep.

Towards the first hours of morning, however, Mary heard clattering and groans from outside her door. Heavy footsteps. A sword placed back into a belt. She got out of bed and moved toward the curtains to hide. But the door opened; a grimy pirate stood, holding onto his belt. Allon lay on the floor, gasping for breath and clutching his chest.

"Allon!" she cried. He could not reply. She screamed, hoping that someone would hear. They had to.

The pirate shut the door and moved towards her in the darkness. She could barely see him, but she could see enough. He grabbed hold of her arm and threw her onto her bed.

"Help!" she cried, kicking and slapping at the man. He laughed menacingly, saying something about after having his way he would take her back to his leaders and give her to them.

"No!" she cried, biting at his arm. He fought back.

"Stop moving…around…whore…" he said and he struggled against her

"Get off of me!" she screeched. She bit him again. The taste was bitter and she wanted to gag. His weight pressed on her and she began to feel light-headed. She then realized that he had his hand on her neck. Why, if she passed out…

She attempted to scream again, but the man's pressing hand allowed none of it. But Adino and Carpus had heard her screams, and burst into the dark room. Her brother charged at the man, quickly killing him. Carpus took his daughter by the hand and led her to Drusilla's room.

Mary ran into her grandmother's arms. She stayed there for a minute, terrified and unwilling to move from the safety.

"Come," Hephzibah said. She pressed a basket of clothing and food into Mary's arms and gave her a heavy cloak. "Your grandmother and I will take you to the stables, but then you must leave quickly."

"What? Where am I going? Grandmother…" Mary questioned.

"No time. You must leave. It's too dangerous for you to stay here. Go into Samaria then Judea. Away from Galilee. Go to your Aunt in Jerusalem!" her grandmother said, guiding her along the halls of the house.

"By myself?" she said, "Surely we all must escape."

"Your father and I won't leave the business. It's important Mary. He loves it so much. It is something he built…something he is proud of. We dare not leave it," said her mother as they reached the stables.

"He created me!" Mary protested, "I'm important, you both love me, surely?"

"Of course. We all do, but Mary it isn't safe for you to stay here!" said her mother, brought around a donkey.

"Can I not take Asaph or Adino with me?" Mary pleaded. Her heart was pounding so much it hurt, "I'll die if I go all the way to Jerusalem by myself."

"God will be with you," said Drusilla, "He has always blessed this family."

Mary raised an eyebrow. She swallowed.

"You must go…now," her mother said again.  
"Moses wandered for forty years, child, survived and was blessed by God and now his people thrive. You shall also thrive, but you must be brave as Moses was," her grandmother said.

Mary loaded her clothing and food and water onto the donkey, silently received an embrace from her grandmother, and then her mother who placed the gold family locket around her daughter's neck.

"We will send for you when this is all over. No go!"

Mary walked for many weeks after that night. She rested at inns and kind people's homes. Upon reaching the deserts outside of Jericho, she was low on food and water, and she was tired, hot…weak.

She and the donkey were happy to sit and rest near a gathering of rocks one afternoon. Mary felt sick. Her stomach was empty and her head heavy. She was dirty. Voices began to swirl around her. She didn't know what they were saying, but she could tell they were menacing and evil voices. Where were they coming from? She heard the squawks of vultures and the hum of insects. Something was rotting. She glanced at her donkey. The animal, who had appeared healthy moments ago, was swiftly crumbling; the skin disappeared, revealing the insides. It began to foam at the mouth. Mary shrieked and jumped up and stepped back. She ran into something.

Behind her was a man. No…it wasn't a man. Whatever it was was scarred, demonic, and shouting blasphemous utterances. His eyes bled and he grinned. His fingers spouted fire. Suddenly, behind him, six more repulsive creatures appeared. A bald, naked and deathly white woman, a large creature with stone horns, a dark cloud of rot with slimy eyes and teeth, a ripped and disemboweled wolf, a serpent as tall as the first demon with venomous fangs and wide hood, and lastly, a dark-cloaked being, seemingly more powerful than all the others, with a white face that showed veins, long nails, dark eyes. Cobras writhed from under the cloak.

Mary fell to her knees, beginning to pray in Aramaic. The demons inched towards her and each time she opened her mouth to pray, they seemed to fly in. They all resided in her abdomen now. It was silent, all except the panting and rotting animal behind her.

She heard crackling and realized that the ends of her hair burst into flame. She ran for the water bag and poured what was left over her head, but it did no good. She reached for the knife and began to chop off the burning ends. It smelled horrible. Smoke rose from her head, smothering her…

She was going mad!

She needed to get home. She needed a temple. She looked back at the donkey. It lay on the ground dead, and serpents began to shoot out of the carcass.

She began to run. She ran until she reached the edges of the town that had to be Bethany. She ran until she reached the town square. People looked at her strangely as she passed; she looked around for the Temple.

"A rabbi! I need a rabbi!" she wanted to scream, but deep blasphemous noises came out instead. She felt as if she were vomiting the words.

Women around her screamed with fear, children cried and men tried to pull everyone back away from this crazy woman.

"Help!" Mary finally let out in a shriek.

"She is possessed with demons!" someone finally said.

Mary had fallen to the ground, and began whipping her body around violently in attempt to rid herself of the demons that were overtaking here. Please, Oh glorious Lord, make them leave!

She couldn't think. She had gone mad. It came suddenly and took over. She couldn't see any of the people. She could only hear them. She seemed surrounded by walls of fire and death.

She could hear someone go for the rabbi, and she could later hear his chanting scripture and she could feel the strong hands of men holding her down as he did so.

"It isn't working!" the rabbi said finally, "She must be executed."

"No!" came a woman's voice, "You will not touch her!

"You keep you mouth shut, you whore," came a man's voice.

"She must be stoned or the demons may possess us," another said.

"No! Lazarus! Help me!" said the woman.

Mary stopped moving. She couldn't see, and she was breathing heavily, but for a moment, it seemed peaceful.

The man, Lazarus walked up to Mary, and she could feel him pick up the locket she wore around her neck.

"The engraving on this locket says she from Magdala in Galilee," he said.

"What has that to do with anything?" the rabbi asked, "This woman is possessed by demons and must be killed before anyone is harmed or possessed themselves."

"It is not her fault that she is weak with hunger and exhaustion. It's plain to see she is sick! Not possessed!" the woman shouted.

"It is true rabbi," said Lazarus, "This woman is ill, but not possessed."

"She spoke in the voice of Satan!" the rabbi protested, "And how would you know? You claim to be some sort of medic or healer but we know that you are a poor and lonely beggar man!"

"Nonsense. I can't believe you men in this town; you're all ridiculous…" the woman ranted more, but Mary heard none of it. She fell into darkness where it was cold and hot at the same time. Where there was no one to protect her. Far from God and her family Mary slipped away.

Perhaps…perhaps this is death.

Mary half-awoke to cloudy vision. She was laying on a bed somewhere. She didn't know exactly where…she didn't know what had happened. She barely knew who she was. But the bed was warm…comfortable…

Mother sent me away…nearly died in the desert…the man and woman fought for me to stay alive…the demons…they…they're gone…She tried to remember all that had happened, but it was difficult.

"Magdalene? Magdalene? I believe she's awaking now, Mary," said a voice. It was a deep and calm voice. It enveloped her and held her in a comforting embrace.

"Mother? Father?" Mary said.

"I'll get her some water," said the woman. It was the same woman who had fought for her. Was she also called Mary?

"What is your name?" asked the man.

"Mary," she said weakly. Vision was slowly coming back to her. The man had a dark head of hair and beard and deep, kind eyes. He smiled.

"I happen to know a lot of Mary's," he laughed, "Mary, you are from Magdala, no?"

"I am," she said and breathed in sharply, "Pirates overtook it…I had to escape, but demons…they…"

"There were no demons, Mary," said the man, "You were weak with hunger and you needed rest."

"But Satan himself…I believe…" she tried to explain what it was like, but found no where to begin.

"Don't talk," came the other Mary's voice, "I'm Mary of Bethany."

Mary nodded at the woman who handed her a clay cup of water, "You kept them from stoning me."

"Hardly," the woman said, "They never listen to me…"

"God helped them to listen that time, Mary, you should feel proud that you saved this woman," Jesus said to Mary of Bethany, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She smiled, "Jesus, how you talk. You know as well as I do they wouldn't acknowledge a whore like me for anything."

Jesus frowned, but changed the subject when he noticed the confused look on Mary's face.

"Either way, you are safe now Mary Magdalene," he said. Mary cocked her head to the side when he said 'Magdalene'. It sounded beautiful. Why she hadn't thought to call herself that before…

"Where am I?" Mary asked.

"Bethany…in Judea," Jesus said.

"I figured," Mary replied. She sat up, "I am not intruding your home, am I?"

"No. This is neither of our homes," said Mary of Bethany, "My brother, Lazarus found this house on top of this hill. He thought it would make a great small farm. But since it is on the hill it costs a bit more and no one has purchased it. We put you here for the last three weeks and took turns watching over you. It wasn't until Jesus came this morning and blessed you that you got better."

Mary looked at Jesus. He smiled. "Well, now that I am reassured you are well, I must go meet my friends. We make our way back to Nazareth tonight."

"It was good to meet you. Thank you for all your help," said Mary of Bethany. She showed him to the door. Mary pulled off the sheepskin cover and stood up.

"Do you need something?" Mary of Bethany asked after Jesus had left.

"My clothes…and my food…I left them with my donkey when the…when I was stricken with illness," Mary said quietly.

"Your donkey came into town a day after you arrived," Mary of Bethany said, "Here, your basket is right here."

"My...my donkey is…alive?" Mary asked.

"Of course," said the woman.

"Oh," Mary peered out the window. In the small farmyard, the animal grazed lazily against a setting sun. She turned back to look at Mary of Bethany. Although she had met the woman a full five minutes ago, this was the first time she got a look at her. Mary was dressed in a bright red and low-cut robe that was thin and she wore no under-robe. She wore gilded sandals and many anklets, bracelets and necklaces. She had earrings that reached almost to her shoulders. Her hair had a red tint to its darkness. Mary of Bethany noticed Mary's stare.

"I know I'm probably not like most women you've met," she said.

"Well, no, you're not. But it is not necessarily a bad thing," Mary answered. In truthfulness, Mary of Bethany was quite lovely and fascinating. She smiled at Mary's reply.

"My brother, and my sister, Martha should be along any minute," said Mary of Bethany.

"Is Jesus your husband?" Mary asked.

"Goodness, no," said the woman, "I only met him this morning. Lazarus brought him to see you this morning to see if he could make you well."

"Why would he be able to make me well?" Mary asked.

"You haven't heard about Jesus? He's a well-known rabbi. He has been known to do miracles. They say…they say he is the Son of God," Mary of Bethany lowered her voice to a whisper, "They say he is the one who has come to deliver us from the oppressive Romans. And…I believe it."

"What? Elijah is the…"

"It's not a known fact that he is. Have you heard of John the Baptist?" Mary of Bethany asked.

"A little," Mary replied. She only heard utterances from her brothers about the Baptist who baptized followers in the river at Jordan.

"He believes that Jesus is the Messiah as well. Jesus preaches differently from any other rabbi, Mary. He believes in equality and preaches about the love of God rather than His wrath."

Mary had to admit that did sound more intriguing than being preached to about her sins over and over. But she did not know what to think of Jesus.

"Mary…back in the town square," Mary said to the woman, "That man he called you a…and then you called yourself…"

"A whore?" Mary of Bethany said raising an eyebrow, "Mary, they call me what I am. I shame my family, good people that they are, but we need money. Lazarus tries to support Martha and I, but it isn't enough."

There was silence for a moment. "If you wish me to leave because of what I am, I will. I'm not a bad person…just desperate."

Mary stared at her. She knew her family would be appalled to learn that she had dreamt of demons and was now under the care of a prostitute. Yet, somehow…Mary of Bethany did not appear to be all that she had been warned of as a child. She had, after all, cared after Mary.

"We are both in desperate situations, Mary. God would not frown on me for befriending the person I am in debt to."


	3. Chapter 3

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

After a year, Mary had bought the small house a top the hill from Lazarus. She became good friends with him, Mary and Martha of Bethany. Because of her "encounter with demons" and her association with an unpopular family, she was outcast by the rest of the town. It did not matter. To her, she would be going home soon. She would always be going home soon. But word never came. Even after she sent word to her family in Magdala and to her Aunt in Jerusalem.

Mary worked the small farm that was on her hill. She had a small patch of wheat that she grew and raised two cattle. She kept the donkey given to her when she left Magdala. It had turned out to be a helpful animal.

After a year of living in Bethany, without word from her family, Mary resigned to the fact that the fighting may last a while and she would have to wait patiently, while settling into her new life in Bethany. 

Life was certainly more simplistic. Her delicate hands soon became rough with work, and her skin dark from the sun. Her work, however, gave her strength and she learned more than she had when she learned in the temple. It was satisfying, and she felt more at peace with everything living in her small home.

Around this time, Jesus arrived once more with his twelve followers; Peter, James, John, Judas, Andrew, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James, Thaddaeus, and Simon. Along with him were his mother, Mary and his aunt Salome.

Mary had been walking back to her house on a spring afternoon when she first heard him teaching to a group of people, clinging to his very word, reaching for him to bless them. Mary wandered over to listen.

"Pray to know God," he said, "People pray but they do not know God. Do not act as they do. When you pray, my brothers and sisters, pray so you know God. God already knows you. He knows everything about you. He knows your secrets and your worries. Yet, you do not know him. Get to know him. Get to love him. Pray so you will know him and be stronger for it. Pray like this."

He motioned for the listeners to get on their knees. He followed once everyone had done as he wished. He folded his hands and closed his eyes. He looked like a great statue. Composed and content. Mary, although wanting to focus on his lesson and the prayer, looked at him through the corner of her eye.

"Our Father in heaven,  
May your name always be kept holy.  
May your kingdom come  
And what you want be done,  
Here on earth as it is in heaven.  
Give us the food we need for each day.  
Forgive us for our sins,  
Just as we have forgiven those who sinned against us.  
And do not cause us to be tempted

But save us from the Evil One."

He finished, and the listeners all muttered an 'amen' and rose back onto their feet.

"Forgive others and you will also be forgiven. If you do not, you will not be forgiven," he said.

Mary, so taken aback by the truth and clarity of the lesson, went to more of his teachings.

They seemed to draw her in. They were so full of truth that Mary was almost frightened by them; afraid that she would not live in the place called Heaven if she didn't believe. All fear left her instantly when Jesus reassured the listeners that all they had to do was believe, and ask for forgiveness. He had seemed to be talking to her; everything he said related to her. Perhaps, it did for everyone. Perhaps he was the coming Messiah and knew them as well as he preached that God knew every one of his followers.

One day, Jesus was preaching once again. Mary sat listening intently as usual.

Jesus' followers sat there also. After the lesson, they brought him a basket of apples. They all took one and ate. The people around her were getting up to leave, and she reluctantly did the same.

Then Jesus said to her, "Mary, have an apple, and join in on our meal."

"You remember me," she said smiling and walking closer in to be with the group. Jesus' mother, slid over a place so Mary could sit down

"Now just why would I forget you?" he said.

"Did you not hear, woman?" a follower addressed Mary.

"What do you mean...man," Mary said a little defiantly.

"I mean that he is going to be our leader!" the man said, "He has performed miracles beyond your belief, including healing you. He is a wise man and forgets no one."

"You're not surprised at his glorious powers, Mary?" asked a follower.

"I have heard of his doings, indeed," Mary replied, "It is because he is as great as you claim that I believed him to not remember me."

"Mary of Magdalene has faith in me. She knows all that I can do. She believes my powers, as you call them, are from God. She believes I am the Messiah, do you not Mary?" said Jesus.

"I do believe now, Teacher," she said.

"My brothers...I will help carry the rest of these apples to Mary's house. They are for her weekly meals. We have enough back where we stay," said Jesus.

Some followers gave disappointed looks, and some smiled and waved her goodbye, the elder Mary and a boyish looking man with kind eyes included.

"Thank you...Jesus," she said. The two turned in the direction of the hill where Mary's house was.

"Have you always lived in Bethany?" Jesus asked as he set the basket of apples down. He now put on a more casual air; not quite the powerful and regal demeanor he had held only moments ago.

They rested midway up the hillside, for the basket was heavy and made their already blistered hands raw.

"No, I was born in Magdala in Galilee," said Mary sitting next to him, "My family was very wealthy, but disliked by a group of pirates. They threatened to take unmarried women if merchants, such as my father, didn't give up their profits. I was sent to Judea to get away from the danger. I don't know when I can go back. I wait for word from my family."

"I was raised near Magdala, in Nazareth," he said, "Well, you have the body and mind of a wealthy merchant's daughter."

"What does my Teacher mean?" she asked, smiling.

"You act independently and strong. It is something I respect. You are a woman who knows much. God has given you a gift to see into His plan" he said, "Believe what I say."

"I do believe," she replied. She loved his straight forwardness as much as he loved her independence and knowledge.

They picked up the basket again, and began to walk again. Jesus began to hum an upbeat song that Mary recognized. It was a dance tune from Galilee. She joined in with the humming which soon turned into words. When they finished singing the song she said, "You sing very well."

"A carpenter has to do something while working all afternoon," he laughed, "You're very gifted in singing as well, Mary."

"Am I?"

"Yes," he said gently.

Mary just let a smile play across her lips as they neared her house that was set against a dying sun.

Mary was working in her orchard, filling baskets with figs, when she heard Martha's screams from the bottom of the hill.

"MARY!" she screamed, "It's Lazarus! He's dead!"

Mary dropped the handful of figs she had in the basket at her feet and ran down the hill, not caring that her veil flew off her head.

Upon reaching the family's house, Mary and Martha entered to see Lazarus lying on the floor, a chalky gray, with his youngest sister clinging to him, sobbing.

"What happened?" Mary asked.

"He just fell," said Martha. She wasn't crying, but Mary could tell she had to will herself not to do so, "He fell, and then he wasn't breathing. He had been feeling weak for a few days, but Mary and I thought it was simple exhaustion."

"Exhaustion is a powerful thing; never simple," Mary said as she knelt to comfort the other Mary who sobbed over her brother.

If only Jesus were here, Mary thought. Jesus and his followers had gone into Jerusalem for a week and wouldn't be back for three days.

Later that evening, they placed Lazarus in a tomb. All three women wept. He had been kind to Mary from the moment she came running into town, stricken with madness. He had cared for and defended his two sisters. And he was gone with no reason.

Now, the three women would have to anoint his lifeless body with spices and seen as unclean beings for several days. It was the end of something. To Mary and her dear friends, ends were equal to a curse.

"Jesus!" Mary cried, rushing to her friend when she saw his face next.

"What has happened?" he said. He saw the worry in her face as he laid eyes on her.

"Lazarus died while you were away. Three days ago he just…he just died," Mary quietly explained. She noticed John and Bartholomew, who stood behind Jesus, exchange grieved glances. Jesus and his disciples were also good friends with Lazarus and his sisters.

"Show me to the tomb," Jesus said. Mary and Martha stepped out of the house when they heard Jesus speaking with Mary.

"Where are you going?" Martha asked.

"Show me to your brother's tomb," he said.

The group assembled around the cave where they had recently placed Lazarus to rest. Jesus, with the help of Judas and Peter, opened the tomb and Jesus went inside alone.

For hours, the disciples and women waited for Jesus to come out. What was he doing? The sun was hot, and Mary of Bethany went into a fit of tears every so often. She rested in Mary's lap for the remainder of the time. Mary could only stroke her hair and her face. Jesus' mother and aunt comforted Martha. 

When the sun had begun to set, Jesus stepped out of the tomb, pulling something with him. It was Lazarus!

His sisters and Mary ran up to him and enveloped him into an embrace.

"My darling sisters," he said. And he had included Mary of Magdalene.

"Mary," Jesus began, "Do you believe that Lazarus' resurrection was God's way of proving that I am His Son?"

"Yes!" she said, grinning.

The two sat in the back courtyard of Lazarus' house. The sky was now dark, and cicadas sounded in the fig trees.

"I believe anything you say now," Mary said.

Jesus laughed.

"What?" Mary asked.

"Nothing. It makes me feel privileged to hear you say so however," he said, "Mary, my followers and I are going up to Galilee. We leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? You…you just got back. I looked forward to listening to your teachings again," she said.

Jesus smiled. "Would you like to come with me? We can stop in Magdala on our way to Cana."

"Come with you? As a…a disciple?" she asked.

"Exactly," he said.

"But I'm a woman," she said.

"How does that matter? My mother, my aunt, Mary and Martha are all disciples. Anyone who follows me is my disciple. Their gender is no matter to me," Jesus said, absently taking her hand. It was a warm, rough hand, worn from sculpting and fitting wood. She looked down at it and smiled.

"I'll follow you wherever you want me to," she said, "And I have money too! Plenty. My mother placed half of my inheritance in the money bag when I left Magdala. I'd gladly fund your mission!"

"I can't ask that of you," Jesus said gently.

"You didn't," Mary said, "I give it."


	4. Chapter 4

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

Mary traveled with Jesus and his followers. She gave the money from her family's wealth to the Rabbi's mission. It was the most important thing she had done. She began to live as they did. It was more simple than her life in Bethany. She soon got used to only letting herself be offered food from villagers, rather than buying or begging. She also slept outside with the other disciples; despite that most of them were men.

She befriended Jesus' mother and her sister, Salome. They cooked and washed for the men, but Jesus would let them do the missionary work as well, and it all fascinated Mary.

She often missed Mary, Martha, and Lazarus of Bethany. They were to receive any word from her family and send it by messenger to wherever Jesus was, for sure Mary would be there with him

Mary became excellent friends with John, Andrew, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James, Thaddaeus, and Simon.

Andrew, Thomas, James and Thaddaeus were jokers. They replied with a witty remark at every chance they could. John, Philip. Bartholomew and Matthew were kind and gentle. They read aloud to the groups at night and were friends to all. Simon was a zealot. He was outspoken and had new ideas about everything. He loved to explain them all to Mary. She enjoyed watching him rant his political views and criticisms.

Judas and Peter were the ones she did not get along with so well. Before Mary came, Peter was Jesus' right hand man. Now Jesus spent much time with Mary and Peter spoke out against it on more than one occasion. Judas was quiet and sulky much of the time. Although Mary tried to befriend both of them, there was a coldness that didn't go away.

Out of all her new friends, Jesus was the closest to her, and she the closest to him.

"My brothers..."Jesus announced one night at their outdoor meal, "I am growing in age. I know the laws of society and I follow them. A man must be married. Mary Magdalene and I decided that we shall be man and woman at the end of the month."

Mary smiled brightly at him as he said this. He raised his clay chalice majestically in a toast.

"Teacher! She cannot marry you; you are a religious man; she is from Magdala where many have turned to paganism. She comes from a land where the religion is different and wrong. They have temple women, you do not even know if she is one or not!" claimed Peter.

"My Lord, it is not acceptable," said Judas sternly.

Mary looked nervously at Jesus, who looked over the Brethren. Then at John who looked at Mary sympathetically. He was young but he was wise and Mary had held great respect for him.

"I know this is not what you expect of me, but believe in all that I do, and believe that it is for good. Mary comes from a good, prestigious and faithful family. When I am gone she will lead you."

This was no comfort to Peter or Judas.

"My lord...she is a woman," Judas spit out.

Mary's stomach burned with annoyance, and even Mother Mary and Salome looked taken aback by Judas' comment.

"Yes, Judas, but a strong woman who can lead you all well. Don't make me tell you that women are creations of the Father as well. You already know this. John will be her companion. When I am gone, follow them with your hearts. I know they will teach faithfully to my teachings because I love them both."

"Why do you love them more than us?" asked Peter who was fuming.

"Why do I not love you?" was all that Jesus replied.

Mary softened towards the two disciples. They had not expected this, and she knew she needed to understand that to lead them.

"Jesus is our teacher; follow him and believe what he says for when he comes again you will want to be saved," Mary said walking over to join Jesus. They joined hands.

This calmed the men, but Mary still felt her stomach roll. Jesus had said she would lead them when he was gone. This proved he was the man from the scriptures. But the followers, except Mother Mary and her daughter-in-law to be did not notice that their rabbi hinted at leaving them all.

Jesus and Mary decided that upon reaching Magdala and announcing their marriage to her family, they could be wed there.

When they reached Magdala, however, Mary saw her city in half ruin. Many buildings and warehouses had been burned. The wharf her father owned was completely gone, as were his fishermen.

Mary led their way to her old home. It was burnt to the ground. They later learned that a week after Mary had left, the pirates took the entire family. Mary's aunt had come to Magdala searching for Mary, who was supposed to arrive to her in Jerusalem, and found the family dead and assumed Mary had been taken with them.

"Mary…I…I am so sorry," Jesus said, pulling her into an embrace.

"I should have known when I received no word for a year. I suppose I did know in a way. I must have accepted it a while ago," she said.

The two were standing where the wharf used to stand, looking over Lake Galilee.

"We can stay here for a month and mourn if you would like," Jesus said.

"No, let's continue on home to Nazareth. There's nothing here for me."

"You called Nazareth 'home'," he said smiling.

Once in Nazareth the wedding preparations began. Mary met the entirety of Jesus' family and fell in love with them. She picked out a deep blue robe of fine linen that Mother Mary happily gave her.

After the ceremony, a large gathering took over the small village of Nazareth. The entire town had always loved Jesus and all were happy to see him finally married at thirty two years.

Even the disappointed followers, Peter and Judas, took comfort in the amount of people, music, and wine. As people danced, Mary and Jesus walked about the courtyard where they held the celebration, hands entwined within each other's. It was evening and a light purple brushed across the sky, growing deeper as the hours passed by.

"Do you dance, Mary?" asked Peter.

"A little," she replied.

"Show us," he commanded.

"Peter, you have had too much to drink," Mary said, trying to be lighthearted towards Peter, but he was menacing and he frightened her.

"You can if you would like," said her husband smiling, "Not that you would have asked permission as it is," he laughed.

"I shall then," she smiled.

She went to the circle of dancing women, and joined in the dance. It was liberating. Mary remembered dancing in Magdala with her sisters before the raids.

"Join me Jesus," she shouted as she let out a laugh; a laugh that had been hidden somewhere inside of her for many months, since she had left Magdala. It was an odd feeling, but at the same time a beautiful one, as if a rose began to blossom inside of her abdomen.

"Do I look like the sort of person who would dance?" he asked, laughing as well.

"No, but does that matter? It is your wedding!" Mary said, still laughing, "Mother Mary, John, come in too!"

The Mother just laughed and shook her head but clapped along with the music with Salome, but John pulled Jesus along and they joined the outer circle going around the circle of dancing women.

When everyone was worn out from the dancing, they retired.

"My husband, more wine?" Mary giggled picking up the pitcher from one of the tables. The air was colder now.

"No, I do want you to come over here in my arms, however," he said.

She went more than willingly. She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Does the marriage suit you, Mary?" he asked.

"More than any thing I have done before, Jesus. It almost suits me as well as my Eternal Home will someday," she replied quietly.

"You have been listening very closely to my teachings," he smiled.

She lightly kissed his lips again.

"Mary...I must tell you something," he said, sitting her down on a blanket, and then sitting himself down.

"Tell me anything," she said.

"I will not be on this earth for much longer," he said solemnly.

"Yes...I know. You mentioned leaving us at supper the night we told everyone of our marriage," she said quietly, "What will happen?"

"I am here to die for my Father's people. I will sacrifice myself someday soon for the sins of men and women. It is the will of our Lord. 

"Judas will betray me to the Pharisees who are already plotting my death. I am sorry that my death has to be strapped upon his heart, but it is the will of God. Peter will deny me three times. I will be hated by the public at the time of my brutal sacrifice. Mary I cannot be with you for long, and this causes me much pain. You understand that this is the will of God?"

"Yes, I understand. I love you. I follow you faithfully, and I will feel lost when you are gone, but you won't ever truly leave. I can wait until my own death to see you in the home of your Father," said Mary, saddened by this news. She became defiant to her want to beg him to not follow the will of the Lord.

"You are a wise, remarkable woman, Mary. You are my follower of followers. I love you," he said.

"I only will do the will that belongs to my Lords."

Mary sat at the low table with Mother Mary while still eating their meal remembering their times with Jesus. Now it simply made Mary feel more alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

Ten months after their marriage, Jesus, Mary, his followers, Mother Mary, and Salome, came to Jerusalem for the holiday of Passover to celebrate when the Angel of Death passed over the Jews that were enslaved in Egypt as it killed all of the first born children of the Egyptians.

Mary was now with child. The baby was to be born over Passover. Traveling was discouraged by doctors, but Mary had made a promise to her Lord to follow him where he went and this may be the last time on this earth that she would do so.

Jesus rode in on the donkey that Mary had brought from Magdala to Bethany and then in her following of Jesus. The followers and the women walked along side him as the people in the streets cried out in happiness "Hosanna! Hosanna!"

Jesus smiled, as did the others. It was a warm welcoming. But in the minds of some followers and Jesus himself there was doubt and sadness.

Mary and Jesus both knew that he had to make the ultimate sacrifice soon, for it had been prophesied.

Judas did not like the power the sect was gaining now. He felt that Jesus should not be worshiped more than the Father and his message. Mary had overheard his menacing voice the other night through the thin walls of the tent while Jesus slept peacefully. Judas had been talking to Peter. Judas had said that it was a sin how Jesus should be worshiped more than the Father. Peter had said he had everything under control. Mary knew what that meant. Once Jesus was gone, as he implied, Peter would overthrow Mary and John.

Mary decided to keep this from Jesus. He had enough to do with lessons and the idea of his looming death.

Everyone was in Jerusalem for the pilgrimage. It was a big city, surrounded by a great wall. However the Romans occupied the city just as they did with the rest of the land. While the many Jews celebrated their protection from God, the Roman guards and citizens seemed perturbed. It would be a long week…for everyone.

On Thursday, Jesus and the men went to an upstairs room to dine. Mary, the Mother, and Salome would not be attending. Mary was weak and tired as her child was to be born any day. The two elder women wished to stay with her and keep her comfortable.

Jesus held Mary in his arms and kissed her. At this she seemed to crack. She clung to him a moment longer that usual, not wanting to let go. He was warm. He was always warm. He had been warm when she came out of the cold, dark sickness on her arrival in Bethany. He had been warm when they stood at the cold wharf in Magdala. He was warm to the sick, the blind, the possessed, the deaf. He was always warm.

"I love you more than I can say now," he said. Mary thought she saw a small tear fall from his eye. The man was terrified, and Mary could feel the violent tremble from his insides as she laid her hand on his arm to comfort him.

"I love you as I love my Father, and Heaven," she said softly. With one more kiss, Mary and the other women left for their rented lodgings while the others stayed to dine.

Mary had somehow fallen asleep that night, as had the Mother. When it was past the mid-night, Mary awoke out of worry from dreams. The room was cold. Empty. Jesus was not home yet. Neither were any of the other disciples.

"My Mother?" Mary whispered.

"My daughter?" she replied awakening. Salome stirred next to the Mother, and sat up.

"Your son is not home yet," Mary said, greatly surprised by the panic in her own voice.

"Really?" said the Mother with just as much panic.

"We should go find them and see if they are still dining," said Salome getting up.

The three women quickly dressed quickly, Mary with some difficulty, and they stole out of the room into the street.

The street was dark. The only light was that of the candles in the small windows. The upper room where the Passover meal was taking place was several streets away, but they hurried.

No one was to be found in the room, however. Beside the edifice, there was a garden. It was rather large, and sweet smelling.

"Maybe they went in here to pray," Salome suggested, "This is the garden Gethsemane."

"The meal could not have lasted this long. Something happened," said Mother Mary.

"Yes...it has," Mary pulled her cloak tighter.

"MOTHER!" came a shout from the gates of the garden. It was young John running towards them.

"John, where is Jesus?" Mary asked meeting him half way, and the Mother and Salome following behind her.

"He has been taken. By the Pharisees," he said through long breaths. 

"For...what?" Mary asked.

"Blasphemy, for saying he is the Son of God," replied John.

"Where did they take him?" Mary asked, choking on her words.

"Follow me, I'll show you where. Many of the men have run because they were afraid they would be captured as well. I do not know where they have escaped to," said John, as the people headed for the Temple.

So we are the ones left? Mary thought, Just us.


	6. Chapter 6

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

The Pharisees had brought Jesus to the High Priest, Ciaphas' court where they interrogated him and beat him. There was a mob of other Jews looking on, pretending that they had not cheered when Jesus had entered the city. They had looks of distain and hatred on their faces. They were only masks.

From that point, the Pharisees decided to take Jesus to the Roman procurator, Pontius Pilate. If the procurator agreed to whatever it was that the Pharisees requested, it would come to pass.

In the morning, Mary, the Mother, and John left to see the Roman trial of Jesus. Salome stayed at the lodging in the case that any other disciples appeared from their escape.

When Jesus was brought out, Mary felt her stomach tighten with sickness. He was beaten across the face, chest, and back.

"My Father, protect him...please," Mary whispered.

"What has this man done?" asked the procurator with a strong voice that was not frightening, but almost reassuring. But how could anything have seemed reassuring then?

The High Pharisee, Caiaphas answered, "He has gone against our religion; our beliefs, good Pilate. We cannot punish him how we would like, however. We would like to execute him, but there are no laws for us that say we can execute Jesus of Nazareth. We need your blessing."

John scoffed when Caiaphas said "blessing."

After Pilate thought and talked with Jesus in a room off to the side of the courtyard where the crowd stood, he told them to take him to King Herod of Galilee. Jesus was, after all, not under Pilate's rule. He came from the land of Galilee.

During the hour Jesus was taken to the palace where Herod was staying for Passover, Mary and the Mother waited in the crowded courtyard with a loaf of bread they had brought for their meal. The air was hot, and the many bodies did not make anything more comfortable. The people next to Mary talked in hushed voices.

"He has done wrong. How can he think that we believe him to be the Messiah talked about by Isaiah?" one said.

"How can he believe himself to be the Messiah?" the other asked.

"Pilate must order to have him crucified. It is the only way to ensure our safety."

Safety...not the Messiah...?

They all really believed that Jesus was a fraud. These were the same people that cried "Hosanna!" when he came into Jerusalem. What was happening? They were afraid. But afraid of what? She did not know how to stop this, how to make these people believe that he was the Messiah. But like the townspeople of Bethany wouldn't listen to Mary of Bethany, they would not listen to her either.

Then she knew. It was the will of God. The people would learn someday that he was the Messiah, and follow him. But then, it would be too late for Jesus.

Hours later, Pilate would still not crucify Jesus. Instead they had him severely beaten thirty-nine times. Mary watched. His blood pooled on the white stones that pieced together to make up the floor. The Mother vomited half way through it and Mary had to leave the side of her husband to comfort her mother-in-law. The laughter of the guards came from the yard where he was tortured. Each laugh pierced their hearts.

When Jesus was brought back to Pilate, Mary saw the shock on the procurator's face when he laid eyes upon Jesus. He scolded a guard about the harshness of the beating. He looked over the crowd screaming "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

Only days before they screamed "Hosanna!"

Pilate spotted Mary, and she could feel his stare. He glazed over her tear stained face and seemed to understand.

The crowds shouts overtook Mary's sobs. They were washed out.

Pilate's decision could not have been an easy one.

He decided to accommodate the Pharisees' and the public's request; Jesus would be crucified later in the day after carrying the wood of his grave through the city to a hill outside the Jerusalem. The Skull.

It was raining over the hill of Golgotha. It was also cold. With the Mother and John at her side, she watched as Jesus, the father of her coming child, her husband, her Teacher, her Savior suffered slowly.

Mary warmed, however, when he blessed the thief dying next to him even through his pain. An awkward smile had spread across her face, as her throat tightened to stop tears from coming out of her. He is always warm…

"Mother," he cried in a raspy voice, "Mother look at me. Look at me and come to me."

Mother Mary did so, with sliver streams running off the tip of her red nose and red cheeks. Mary felt her own flaming tears wash into the falling rain.

Later he cried, "I am thirsty!"

Mary had to beg for the gaurds to give him something to drink. When the agreed they only gave him a rag soaked with vinegar causing him to sputter and cry.

"Please! Give my husband water to drink!" she cried. John pulled her back before she charged after a soldier. He stroked her hand to calm her.

Mary soon felt him going; slipping into the light. She ran and held to his ankles. Her hands became smeared with his blood as she did. Mary looked up to her Lord. He was a mass of red. But amongst the deathly color of his face, she saw his lips turn up into a smile as she clung to his feet.

"I love you," she whispered.

"It is finished," he rasped, "Father...into your...hands I commend...my spirit."

And it was finished. The bitterest cold swept over the hill.


	7. Chapter 7

Author: Elizabeth Bennent

Discalimer: This story half belongs to the authors of the Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. I am not making any money off of this (for details see John 2:12, Jesus in the Temple.) But original characters and situations are mine, so please ask if you would like to use. Thanks.

Dedication: As always, to the Princess Circle. Also, to the cast of Guilford's "Jesus Christ Superstar."

"Mary? Mary...child, did you hear what I said?" asked the Mother.

"No...I am sorry my Mother. What did you say?" Mary asked snapping out of her gloomy reveries. They had eaten in silence the whole meal, both women most likely thinking over recent...and not so recent events.

"Are you finished?" she asked gently.

"Yes," she said.

"You should hurry and check on the tomb before the crowds swallow the streets," said the Mother picking up the plates.

"Mother?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For everything, and...please, don't leave us," Mary begged, choking up.

"Of course not. You, the baby, and I will stay together. My Son said you will lead and teach in His place with John," said the Mother embracing her, ""Be wary then of the mob and go peacefully."

Mary fastened her veil and robes, and put on her sandals. She brought a basket of flowers with her. 

The streets were very dusty that morning. There were many people in the streets, walking, shopping, and talking, but more people would come in the afternoon to walk.

Mary walked along, once again feeling outside of everything. Some of the people of Jerusalem recognized her as the 'criminal's' wife. She kept her face up, and refused to put it down as if she was ashamed of knowing Christ. She had had enough of hiding in the small room.

After walking through the city, she came to the groves. The trees were bare and looked sad.  
Mary viewed them as she walked by. In the middle of the grove, a shadow of a man hanging from the tree startled her.

But as it swung out of the shadows, Mary recognized the man.

"Judas..." she shuddered.

She ran to the tree where he hung, swaying gently from force.

He had been this way for several days, for the air stank and his face was discolored and bloated; all the blood had been cut from it.

Judas will betray me. I am sorry that my death has to be strapped upon his heart, but it is the will of God...

This is what Jesus had warned her of. She remembered the painful look on her Husband's face.

"Oh...Judas..."she sighed.

She felt a twang of anger. Why...why was this the will of God? Why did it seem death was the will of God?

Mary's breathing was not normal. She breathed heavily enough so her chest hurt when she drew a sharp breath. It was her heart; it was disabled with pain. Burning tears flooded the chasms on the sides of her nose and they fell furiously.

"Judas!" she cried ferociously, "Why could you not wait? Why did you not wait a little longer? I am but a young woman. Only thirty-two years of His life had wasted by and now he is dead! Why did you not wait?"

She was on her knees now, sobbing and not able to catch her breath. She cried Judas' name over, and over. "Why?"

He was entombed in a cave. It would have to do Mary thought. She read that in Egypt important men were entombed in great pyramids and temples. Jesus had been important...

The stone covering the cave's opening was gone Mary saw as she rounded the bend, approaching the cavity in the earth.

Mary felt jolts in her legs and shoulders. The tomb was open! The tomb could have been robbed and the robber could be hiding in the surrounding gardens.

Mary felt herself drop her basket and run. She ran back into the city, to their room, and burst through the door. There more of the disciples were. They returned from their morning business. John and Peter rose to their feet at the sight of Mary.

"John! My brother...his tomb is empty! I do not know where my Lord's body has gone!"

Peter sat next to John. He no longer wore a triumphant gleam in his stare, and Mary was no longer reminded of her nightmares of him. She pushed them aside and pleaded for both to come and see the empty tomb.

John was the first to walk into the tomb, and then Peter. Mary stayed outside.

They only stayed inside the tomb for a moment pointing out to each other the folded shrouds and head cloth that had hid Jesus' body.

John had a slight smile that Mary did not understand when he and Peter left the gardens. John hugged her, reassuring her that all was well. But she did not see how this could be. Peter knelt beside her.

"Fear not," he said gently, "My Lady." Mary stared at him with a forgiving look.

"I...denied him," the man said regrettably. He sounded not at all like Satan. He sounded like a Follower. Mary nodded and embraced the man. Peter clung to her while he sobbed. Mary stroked his hair and held him just as hard. John tugged on the sleeve of Peter's robe, and the two men left.

Mary was not quite sure what she was supposed to do. So she cried. She sat on the ground and cried. It was for a long time. His body wasn't even with her anymore.

"Why are you crying?" came a man's voice. Although the voice was gentle Mary was startled.

"Please...sir...my Lord was buried here and his body has been taken from the tomb and my brothers know nothing of it. Please if you have taken his body or if you know who has...tell me!" she sobbed.

"Mary," he said. The voice was the most familiar sound in the world to Mary. It had been used countless times to tell people of God's love for them, and His own love for them.

"Teacher!"

She looked up. Jesus, her Jesus, was kneeling down over her dressed in a white gauze robe, smiling through his beard, dark eyes twinkling down at her. Mary swallowed. He had risen. And she had known. She knew the day he told her he would leave, and she knew the day he had died. She reached to embrace him. His arms were once again warm and inviting.

"You do not have to hold on to me so tightly!" he chuckled, "I have not yet ascended to my Father in Heaven."

To this, she paid no heed. He was here. He was holding her, and that was all that mattered. She took one of his palms. There was placed a hole where the nail had gone through. Mary kissed it. Then she kissed the other one just as gently. Jesus pulled her into another husbandly embrace. He laid his hands on her stomach where their child was safely housed. He kissed her sweetly and let her go. She had been embraced by God.

"Go and tell the others of what you have seen," he said softly, "Tell them the news."

She started off after one more kiss and look from her dear husband. Then she fled from the tomb.

She ran faster with every sound, smell, and brush of air. She did not feel like an outsider as she had been. She once again felt like a rose was blossoming within her. She was changed. She was...free.

She ran and ran to where John stayed once again. Bursting through the door with overwhelming and contagious joy and faith she saw that he had brought all of the Brethren to the small house.

Mary Magdalene, the Deliverer of the Good News, the Apostle of Apostles stood at the door to say, "He has risen!"


End file.
